


You're my obesession.

by AFurryBunny



Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Deal With It, F/M, Inappropriate Humor, Twisted, he's obsessed, this time there's a dog involved, you develop some kickass power, you have serious bad luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9878315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFurryBunny/pseuds/AFurryBunny
Summary: In this little story over here, you’re always in the wrong places at the wrong time. Or maybe the right places at the wrong time? I don’t know. But there’s always a quick witted mercenary, if you could call him that, dressed in bright red and black spandex to… the rescue… You know what just read this and deal with its God awful summary.





	1. Such a lovely day.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I might have caught his crazy after writing some of this. My head does feel a little fuzzy and the porcelain God summons me. Although, it could be the day old sushi I had for breakfast at the gas station earlier. Yeah… probably the sushi.

You could tell it wasn't going to be a good day. When you woke up the dog was under your feet and tripped you so that your face landed in a pile of last night's dirty laundry. You would have been ok with that if it was just your clothing but it wasn't. You picked yourself up and made your way to the kitchen with a heavy grunt. (Dog's name) followed close behind in hopes that there was food involved. You made strong coffee and fixed yourself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. Once the coffee was done you got yourself a cup and filled it to the brim. However, when you reached for the sugar your hand knocked the mug and its entire contents spilt out all over the countertop, your stomach and thighs. The sound of your shocked and agonised scream, ‘cock sucking motherfucker!' echoed against the walls of your apartment. You hissed in pain and gathered some paper towels to mop up the mess you'd just made. When you got up from the floor you hadn't seen how close you were and hit the back of your head against the edge of the countertop. By then your rage was at its limit as you inhaled and counted to ten.   
"Wow, it's just not your day today." The gorgeous one night stand you took home in a state of intense drunkenness said with a laugh, "Is it?"  
"Just how long have you been standing there?" You asked through clenched teeth.   
"Long enough to see the whole thing happen." They answered with a grin.  
What they had not anticipated was a sharp butcher knife thrown at them in a fit of rage. It stuck in the doorframe where they stood. Right beside their surprised face. 

You were already late for work as it was. You worked for Aesthetica Magazine and you had an article that was due on the editor's desk in half an hour. There was a traffic holdup on the way there. Typical of New York to do something like this to you. There was no way you were going to get into shit with your boss, again. You groaned in frustration and gathered what you needed for work. You climbed out of your car and began to walk. You could not care less that it just stood there and probably created a jam itself. It was your way of saying, ‘well fuck you too' to the bad luck you were having. The further you got the closer you got to the cause. There was a nasty-looking collision and people were running in the opposite direction. The sound of gunshots rang in your ears the closer you got. You stopped in your tracks and something said that you should turn and run like those around you. It was the smarter thing to do. Your shoulders slumped and yet another exasperated sigh left your lips. Regardless of your common sense, as you turned to go back to the safety of your abandoned car, a black motorcycle sped towards you. It was mere inches from hitting you. You closed your eyes and braced for impact but the sound of crunching and screeching metal echoed in your ears. 

You opened your eyes and looked over your shoulder. A male figure in red spandex kicked the rider in the face. He twisted the machine gun from the rider's grip and kicked him upside the head twice. It caused the rider to double back on the underbelly of an overturned van. He then leapt up and onto the rider's back. He grabbed the back of the rider's collar and threw him against the concrete barrier of the bridge. He kicked off the helmet of the rider as though it was a football. As you neared the scene you could hear what he was saying.   
"This is taking sportsman's conduct to a whole new level!" Quipped before taking a katana in hand and sticking it through the rider's shoulder, pinning him to the barrier.   
You flinched in shock when the sound of pierced flesh and stone reached your ears.   
"Looking good, Francis." He retorted, "Well rested. Like you've been pitching not catching. Ringing any bells? No? How ‘bout now?"  
He lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal horribly healed scar tissue. You gasped once you realised that it was the bottom of his face. The pierced rider's gaze shifted from his opponent to you and he smiled.   
"Careful, Wade you might give the poor girl nightmares." Francis jeered.   
The one called Wade's gaze followed Francis' and then both were staring at you.   
"Oh, my God. I am so sorry. Where are my manners?" Wade said with an exaggerated gasp, "Here we go. I found this and I was gonna keep it for myself but you can have it."   
He held out a pink Hello Kitty lipgloss to you. Before you could register all that was happening you backed up into something hard. You looked up with a frown and found a silver face staring down at you. His features reminded you of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his younger years. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a gentle shove in the direction you had come.   
"You better go." He suggested in a thick Russian accent, "This is no place for a civilian to be right now."   
He didn't to tell you twice. You scurried away and climbed back into your abandoned car. You decided to take the longer route to work. The people there were never going to believe what had just happened to you. 

They didn't.   
Your boss thought the outrageous story was just a fate to get out of trouble for arriving late for work. Of course, none of them believed you. Even you wouldn't have believed you. Everyone knew that you were the best writer in the magazine and that there were times when your imagination got the better of you. They thought that was one of those times. So there you were. Behind a desk with an unfinished article staring back at you. For the life of you, your body just wouldn't function properly. The events continued to replay over and over again in your head. You could not do any work because what you wanted to write had been blasted from your head. The only things you saw were overturned cars, bodies, blood all over the road. The beaten face of the motorcycle rider burned in the back of your mind. The memory of the masked man's burned face made you shudder in your seat. Your horrible day went from bad to ok-what-the-fuck in a few moments. The worst part of it all was that the people you spoke to about it didn't believe a word. You were left alone to your thoughts. You sighed and read over the notes you had written to try and commemorate where your article was going. You thought that the work would take your mind off of everything that happened. When it was done the sun had already started to disappear behind the city's skyline. The editor glared at you through his glasses but said nothing as he took the pile of paper in an arm. By then it was time for you to go home. You had spent most of the day in a stunned stupor. You could not wait to get home and drink the worst day of your life away. 

(Dog's name) greeted you at the door with over excited yelps and a tail that wiped at your legs. His absolute happiness to see you was the one good thing that happened. The chocolate Cocker Spaniel was a birthday gift from your parents before you moved into your own apartment. You got to the kitchen and kicked your toe against something plastic. You scowled and looked down to see what it was. An empty blue dog bowl that was picked up and held in the Spaniel's mouth. In all the madness of the morning, you had forgotten to feed the poor animal. A wave of guilt washed over you as you took the bowl from the starving dog. He bounded around as you filled his bowl with food. He even let loose a few overexcited barks and jumped up onto his hind legs. You chuckled at his energy and placed two of his favourite dog biscuits among his food as an apology. You made yourself some cheesy noodles, kicked off your shoes and flicked on the tv whilst settling on your comfortable, coffee coloured suede couch. The soft material and the plushness of the couch made you close your eyes and drift off into a well-deserved sleep. After what you've been through there was nothing that could get any worse than that. At least you hoped that there would be nothing worse.


	2. Why, hello there gorgeous.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably where his obsession starts.

You woke with a pain in your neck from the angle you had slept. You hoped that it would be a better day than yesterday. You had a long and relaxing shower before tending to the burns from the day before. You made a note to fill, (dog's name) food bowl or he would go hungry again. When the dog bowl was full and you were ready for work you left a little earlier. You knew better than to take the quicker route to work. It seemed to have gone off without a hitch and nothing bad happened yet. The one thing that was a bit off were the looks you got when you entered the building. People looked at you like you were an unknown creature lurking among them. Some of them even gave you harsh looks that made your skin crawl. It was as if you were public enemy number one within the company. When you sat down at your desk there was a note for you to meet with the editor as soon as you got there. Your shoulders slumped and a heavy sigh reached your lips. So much for a better day. The editor looked at you through his glasses and, instead of a disapproving glare, offered you a warm smile and urged you to sit. 

"I believe we owe you an apology." He stated, "We saw the footage of the accident on the bridge and spot you between all the chaos. You say you saw the face of, Deadpool. Do you think you could sketch a photorealistic portrait of what you saw? If we are able to reveal the face of the psychopathic mercenary our sales would be off the charts."  
"I didn't see much of his face." You admitted with an annoyed clenched jaw, "I saw his face from the bridge of his nose to his chin. That's not very much to go on."  
"It might not be much but it's enough." He argued, "People want to see what's beneath the mask and so far you are one of the few who has seen it. Neither one of the others who had seen him have come forward. But, we have you to do that for them. I know you are gifted in both art and creative writing that's why you work for us. Get to work and we'll give you thirty-five percent commission for every sale."  
It was an offer he knew you could not refuse. He nodded you off and so you returned to your desk. You received those looks as soon as you exited the editor's office. You had a feeling they knew what you had been offered and they were envious. You had no friends in your line of work and preferred it that way. You left them alone and they returned the favour. Mostly, you felt an odd sensation of satisfaction that those who didn't believe you the day before sure as hell believed you then. 

You searched for your sketching pencils and got to work on drawing the face that would not leave your mind. You couldn't forget what he looked like even if you bleached your eyes. Your pencils recorded his strong jaw line, then his full lips and straight nose. You figured he must have been quite the handsome man in a previous life. Although, the scar tissue did not distort his features as much as it would have an ordinary person. It just looked as though a thick layer of skin had sizzled and never recovered from the trauma. Once you were satisfied with the pencil sketch you set to work on the colours. You drew his portrait as though he was looking at the reader with his masked pulled over half of his face. Your own artwork made you feel uneasy. Like he was watching you as you worked on him. The ridiculous thought made you chuckle to yourself. You psyched yourself into an unnecessary paranoia. Still, there was something about that photorealistic picture that put you on edge. You set your complete artwork down for a while to clean your watercolour-covered hands. When you returned you saw that some of your colleagues hovered over your artwork or near your desk. They were curious about what he looked like. Some seemed fascinated whilst others looked disgusted or disturbed by it. You ushered them away and took the finished artwork to the editor. He seemed so ecstatic with the end result that he let you off work two hours earlier. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Wade's POV

He was in the middle of interrogating one of, Francis' goons when he dropped the magazine he was reading. It seemed even dumbshits could like art and creative writing. Yes, it was in an ice skating rink and yes, he was kind of into all that. What self-respecting man wouldn't love a half-naked woman flaunting how flexible she can be? So, there he was beating the shit out of the guy and starting up the Zamboni when he saw the dropped magazine. He stooped down to pick it up.  
"Hey, you dropped this." He called, holding up the magazine.  
When the fearful goon ignored him and continued to crawl away he shrugged and placed it next to him. Then an amusing thought came into his head and he could not help but chuckle to himself.  
"You're about to be killed by a Zamboni." He said between chuckles, "Where's your boss?"  
Still, he got nothing from the goon who left a trail of new blood on the ice as he crawled away. This annoyed him and he tried to make the huge machine go faster.  
"You're about to die. In the next five minutes." He said with a grunt.  
Watching the pathetic excuse for a human being grew wearisome so he thought he would see what the magazine was all about. That was he made eye contact with a familiar face. He frowned beneath the mask as he stared at the picture of him. It was an accurate depiction of what he looked like. The Zamboni began to shake as though it had ridden over a bump. He then looked under the slow-moving machine.  
"Oh, you're dead already. That went quicker than I expected." He said with a laugh, his attention returning to the cover of the magazine, "Well hello there gorgeous. Someone got your picture in the magazine. Although, your nose is a bit off. My, my, (your name/your last name) you've been a little naughty. Deadpool's gonna have to pay you a visit, you dirty girl." 

He typed her name into his research program. By ‘research program' it really just meant Google. Every article she had ever written as well as pictures of her popped up into his search results. His eyes widened as he studied her pictures. He loved how her (hair colour) locks framed her (face shape) face and those soul-piercing (eye colour) orbs made his nethers twitch. Her smile was what made her glow.  
"Well, I am definitely paying you a visit you hot little weasel, you!" He quipped, "But first I relieve myself. Probably to one of your pictures. Heh heh, you'll never know."  
He printed his favourite picture of you off of the internet and took it with him to his bedroom. Poor Blind Al had to listen to the pleasured moaning and slick sounds of him stroking himself by how thin the walls were. She simply felt for the TV remote and turned up the volume. She leant back on the couch and shook her head. She felt sorry for the poor girl he's just had his eye on. Maybe if he kidnapped her too then, Al would possibly have someone intelligent to talk to.  
Deadpool climbed up the side of the apartment building where (your name) was rumoured to live. He hoped Google Maps hadn't led him to someone else's place. He slipped through the window and looked around. She must have been good with money because the décor consisted of unique artworks on the walls and antique-looking furniture combined with modern décor. It looked like a Victorian and a Greek interior had a beautiful love child. It was a studio apartment. Very wide spaced and open. He looked around and kicked his foot against something warm and moving. He looked down at a dark brown Cocker Spaniel. He held out his hand to pet the barking animal when a knife flew into his arm. 

"What the shit biscuit?!" He howled in pain as he stood upright and pulled out the knife from his forearm, "What the fuck was that for? I would never hurt a puppy."  
He scowled at the woman through his mask and holding his arm. She was in nothing but a short, silk nightgown and a white chiffon robe. He gasped and bit down on his bottom lip.  
No, Deadpool. Bad, Deadpool. Don't think dirty thoughts.  
"Hey there. I was just wondering if you could sign my mag for me." He quipped, "After all, art is in the beauty of the beholder!"  
"What the hell are you doing here?" She hissed at him, "How did you get in?"  
"Oh, I just made like Spiderman and climbed up the wall. It wasn't really that hard, thanks for asking." He answered, the white eyes of his mask thinning as he grinned at her, "Nice place you got here. Does, Oprah visit often?"  
"Get out." She snapped, her arms folded over her chest.  
"But, I just got here." He protested with an unamused whine.  
"Get. Out." She hissed through clenched teeth.  
Dear, God she was hotter when she was pissed. He turned on his heel and made his way out of her studio apartment. She followed close behind and made sure to lock the door behind him. He then turned back around and proceeded to knock on her door.


	3. Just give and take.

You tried to ignore the knocking on your door but no matter how much you tried to drain it out it just wouldn't stop. You drew the line when the patterns started to match the rhythm of popular RnB songs. (Dog's name) didn't seem to mind the disruption of sleep. He was all too happy that there was more time to play. You grunted and almost tore the door from its hinges as you opened it. Whether he realised the door was open was beyond you but he continued his knocking. When his gaze met your scowl he froze in place.   
"What? Don't like, Drake?" He asked, the white eyes of his mask widening, "Well, that's just racist."  
He walked passed you without invitation as though he owned the place. He made his way to the kitchen with you in tow. The last thing you needed was a masked sociopath rummaging through your stuff. (Dog's name) sat behind him in hopes that would there was food involved.   
"You know," he said, popping his head over the kitchen counter, "for a rich lady who pretty much eats nothing but junk food you stay in pretty good shape."  
In one swift movement, he closed the cupboard door, hopped up onto the counter, lay across it and rested his head in his hand.   
"Girl, what is your secret?" He asked with a lisp and his voice a few octaves higher.   
"I'm tired, these past two days have been a mess and I just really want to go to sleep." You murmured, "So if you're done I'm going to bed. Lock the door behind you and for God's sake don't give the dog pop tarts!"  
Deadpool stopped in mid-air and slowly put the pop tart he was offering to, (dog's name) back into the box. He whispered something that you didn't care to hear. With that, you turned on your heel and made your way to the bedroom. Although, for some reason, you could not stop snickering the whole way there. 

The next morning you woke with a startle. Beside you was the merc dressed in spandex with his elbow on the pillow and his hand on his temples. You had tangled yourself in the sheets from fright and had to disentangle yourself in frustration. You huffed the strands of hair out of your face and glared at the amused visitor.   
"I hope you don't mind but I watched you while you sleep." He confessed, "It's not weird or they wouldn't have put it in the Twilight books."  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" You snapped, getting out of bed.   
"Good morning to you too." He said with a laugh, "Your morning breath reminds me of this street market I once went to in Peru."  
You were not amused. Ignoring his presence you went to the bathroom and got into a soothing, hot shower. You hadn't heard any random remarks for a while and hoped that he had left. You weren't so lucky. Whilst you rinsed the floral body wash he opened the door to the shower and stepped in and continued like nothing was wrong. It seemed the singed skin was not relative to his face only. There was no part of him without scar tissue. He looked like he must have been quite striking before his accident. He had a strong a jaw-line and full cheeks. His deep honey-coloured eyes and chiselled muscle tone weren't so bad either. It made you wonder what happened to him. Until he turned around and grinned at you. Your hands immediately went to cover yourself.   
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You squealed in embarrassment.   
"Taking a shower?" He answered, nonchalant, "Isn't that usually what you do in these things? Or have I been lied to my entire life?"   
"Not when there's a stranger in it already!" You snapped.   
"Oh, then there's something wrong with gym showers." He retorted, "I should probably put that in their suggestion boxes."   
You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the shower without brushing against him. You knew you failed when you felt the sensation of rough skin pressed against you. You grabbed a towel and covered yourself before making your way to the bedroom. You found yourself wondering if that was like that everywhere. You shook your head and shoved the nagging little sensation in the pit of your stomach away. You had better things to do than think about a sensorless mercenary. 

At breakfast, he was particularly insufferable. Every remark drew you closer to hitting him upside the head with a skillet. He must have had other people to annoy somewhere else. There was no way you were the sole victim of his overbearing personality. When he saw you lost interest in his story, of how his glory days before having to shove himself in a body suit, he clicked his fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and muttered an apology before telling him that you had to go to work. You knew you didn't need to be there for another hour but there was just so much of him you could take. Something happened at work that you hadn't thought would ever transpire for as long as you worked there. One of the other writers leant against your desk in wait. When your eyes met her lips stretched into a broad smile. She was the prettiest woman in the company and everyone knew it. She had a flawless, heart-shaped face, soul-piercing indigo eyes, a pixie-like nose, high cheekbones and plump lips. She was always well groomed so her shoulder length, scarlet hair was never in awry. Her lithe figure was always dressed in tailored suits. She never paid you any mind until then. In fact, you were invisible to her.   
"Hello there, (your name)." She greeted a little too cheerfully, "I love what you're wearing. Very bohemian chic."   
You wore a coral camisole, a printed chiffon poncho and shredded skinny jeans with ballet flats to top it off. Without your heels, you were at least four inches shorter than her. Her presence intimidated you.   
"Hey, Angelique. Is there something I can help you with?" You greeted, unperturbed by her vivacious personality.   
"I was just wondering what it was like being so close to one of the world's insane heroes." She chirped, "Is he as charming as I've heard he can be?"  
"He's not a hero." You corrected her with a furrowed brow, "He's just a terrible guy who goes after even worse guys. As far as charming goes… he seems to think so."  
"Have you spoken to him on a more personal level?" She queried, chewing on her bottom lip and her blue eyes studying your face.   
"He gave me a pink Hello Kitty lip gloss and told me to get the fuck away from there." You lied, "That was the first and last I've heard from him. It's the last I ever want to hear from him."  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
From receiving dirty looks and sullen silences to being greeted and offered coffee in just three days. It all just seemed a bit off to you. Until the editor called you into his office and announced that he was giving you a promotion. You were the same rank as, Angelique Maximiliano. Unlike her, it wasn't your looks and sleeping with the boss that got you your promotion. It was the money you made for the magazine with the Deadpool art. Apparently, people wanted to see what was under the mask more than you expected. You thought that if they knew he climbed into the shower with you, their reactions would be a lot worse. When it was time to go you gathered your stuff and, literally, bumped into, Angelique. She had a faltering smile on her face.   
"(Your name), are you busy after work?" She asked, her hand resting on your desk to block you from slithering passed her, "I thought we could go to this wonderful Tai restaurant just a few blocks from here. A celebratory dinner of sorts. It seems only right since you're the one other person in my line of work."   
There was no saying ‘no' to, Angelique and you knew it. It seemed like an opportunity to avoid, Wade as much as possible. You agreed and followed close behind. The thought of making at least one friend didn't seem too bad. She could be the one you went to when you needed someone to talk to. Boy, did you have a lot to talk about!

She ordered an expensive wine and her favourite food for the both of you. You spoke about work and what schools you both went to. She gave you advice on how to be more of a people's person and you gave her advice on how not to be a bitch. When the third glass of wine was washed down the two of you got more comfortable with each other. From formal conversation to laughing and giggling like two school girls. It didn't seem to matter that people were staring at you. What you thought would be an awkward evening turned out to be pretty fun. When the waiter brought the bill she insisted on paying. The cold stare she gave you when you pulled out your card made you put it right back with a nervous laugh. You were surprised when you walked out of the restaurant's doors. You must have lost track of time because the stars were twinkling and the moon was high. Angelique lived in the opposite direction that your apartment was in. She bid you goodbye and prompted that the two of you should have girls' dinners like that more often. You blew her a kiss goodbye and shuffled your way back home. You regret finishing that fifth glass of wine because of how your head felt. You knew you were a lightweight yet you continued to drink with her. It was then you were grateful you chose flats instead of heels. You were alone on the sidewalk and there were few cars on the street because of how late it was. You had nothing but the streetlamps to keep you company as you made you way back to work. Your car was still in the parking lot. Walking there made you wonder why you didn't take it. You could have driven her there yet you forgot about it in the spur of the moment. You didn't know if it was the alcohol in your system talking or if someone was actually following you. 

You looked over your shoulder just to be sure. When your eyes met two hooded figures several yards behind you your pace quickened. They shuffled behind you at a distance. When your pace increased so did theirs. Your fear dissolved any fuzzy feeling or alcohol and before you knew it you were sober. Well, sober enough. The second time you looked over your shoulder they were a lot closer than before. Your pace was somewhere between a sprint and a walk. No matter how fast or how far you thought you were from them they always got closer than last time you looked. You could hear your heart race in your ears as you fumbled for your car keys. You sprinted up the ramps of the parking lot to your trusted vehicle. You looked over your shoulder and couldn't see either one of them. It seemed they hadn't followed you into the dimly lit lot. You began to relax as you breathed a heavy sigh of relief. You continued to your car. You took your time unlocking it and when you looked into the window you gasped. In the reflection, a gloved hand covered your mouth and a silver blade was held at your throat. He pulled you backwards and away from the car. The blade cut a little deeper into the sensitive skin every time you struggled. You felt the hot blood trickle down your chest and your breathing quickened. The second one stepped in front of you once you were far enough from the car. He had a sickeningly wide grin on his face as he watched you. The heated look in his eyes sent unpleasant shivers up and down your spine. Fate just didn't want to cut you any slack. A wave of dread washed over you as you thought about what came next. 

Then there was a whistle that echoed against the walls of the empty parking lot. The one in front of you frowned and looked around. Your eyes widened as he pulled out the gun he had tucked into his jeans. Another playful whistle sounded from the opposite direction. That time it had the attention of both of your attackers. The one who held you loosened his grip and you bit into the hand that covered your mouth. He hissed in pain and pulled his hand away. The other pointed the gun at you with his finger on the trigger. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for the muffled bang. Instead, there was a whizzing sound beside your ear and the one who held you fell to the ground with a loud thud. You opened your eyes and gagged. He was without his head. Your hand went to your wounded throat and you applied pressure to slow the bleeding. The second attacker fired multiple shots but not at you. Behind you stood, Deadpool with bullet wounds in his torso.   
"Well now, this is just sad. You're gonna run out of… yep, you just ran out of bullets." He said with a shake of his head.   
The katana blades in his hands circled before piercing the second attacker's ribcage. Deadpool held him up until the attacker's eyes glazed over before dropping him.   
"Maximum effort." He chided, quite pleased with his handiwork.   
You felt lightheaded. Not just from the double murder in front of you but because of the blood lost as well. You collapsed to your knees from how weak it all made you. The last thing you saw was a red blur lifting you into his arms.


	4. The sound of silent laughter.

Your eyes fluttered open and you woke to a hospital room and an IV attached to you. You looked around the ward and found bouquets of different flowers all over. As far as you knew you had very few friends so the bouquets didn’t make sense. Your fingertips stroked at the bandage around your throat. The events of the night before flooded your memories. Just when you thought your luck was looking up something like that had to go and happen. A nurse walked into your room and picked up the clipboard at the foot of your bed. You found you could not speak. It hurt to swallow let alone make a sound. She looked up from the chart and smiled.  
“Oh, you’re awake. I didn’t notice.” She confessed as she made her way to your side, “Quite scary what happened to you. I don’t think I could handle getting cornered on my own like that.”  
She shook a vile of white liquid and injected it into the IV. Then it was a vile of blue liquid. Your brow furrowed and your head tilted to one side. She chuckled at your confused expression and said that the one was morphine and the other a name you could not pronounce. You nodded, trusting her to know what she was doing.  
“You’re one lucky girl.” She said, gesturing to the bouquets of flowers littered around the private ward, “You must have quite the friends worried about you. I wish I had friends who would spend so much money on me. I mean, just look at these orchids! But maybe, it could be that menacing mercenary, Deadpool.” She finished with a smirk.  
Your eyes widened and you shook your head. You knew what she was insinuating. She chuckled at your response and put the clipboard back. She said that she would be back with something you’d bear to eat later. You gave her a warm smile in reply.

You got up from your bed and picked up the letters from the bouquets. You settled on your bed and read the little notes written by their senders.  
_Speedy recovery my trouble attracting friend_. The note from, Angelique said.  
_Hope you get better soon. Can’t believe what happened to you._ The note from the editor said.  
_Roses are red, violets are blue. Hey, I don’t give a shit, here’s some flowers for you._  
_You look very attractive in red._  
_No, really, red is an amazing colour on you!_  
The last three notes were all from the same person. None of them had a name but you knew exactly who they were from. There was one person you knew with a cliché sense of humour. As much of an irritation as he was he did save your life so you had no choice but to feel gratitude. He did buy three different bouquets. You smiled at the friendly gesture and placed the notes on the end table. The thing you hated about hospitals was that there was nothing to do. You couldn’t get up to visit other patients because it seemed a bit weird and you didn’t have anything electronic to keep you entertained. So, to keep yourself busy you read the notes and read over the chart at the foot of your bed. Just the silence of the room was enough to drive you crazy. You hoped that someone would visit you or you would start seeing things that weren’t there. You were already paranoid enough as it was. You didn’t need the boredom and the complete silence to make it any worse.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Angelique popped her head around the corner and offered a sympathized expression. She made her way over with a white board and a black marker. She said that she came by earlier but you wouldn’t have been able to speak to her. So, she went to get something for you as a form of communication. You smiled and took the board from her hands.  
“I know it’s a stupid question but, how are you feeling?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip, “I only heard about what happened to you. I’ve been feeling guilty all day. I feel like it’s my fault you’re in this situation. You wouldn’t have been attacked if I hadn’t kept you so late.”  
You gave her a warm smile and scribbled something on the board. The lid of the marker in your mouth as you held it up for her to read.  
**Don’t beat yourself up about it. I should have remembered I have a car.**  
“I should have remembered to remind you.” She retorted with a heavy sigh, “If, Deadpool hadn’t been there… I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened. Still, I’m glad he was. The world gets to see the face of, (your name) another day.”  
You rolled your eyes at her and wiped away at the board before scribbling again.  
**We might need a bucket for the amount of cheese that’s dripping off that sentence. Oh, and thank you for the flowers. I feel so special. To be honest I’m glad he was there too. Just don’t tell him that though. We don’t want to stroke his already inflated ego.**  
Angelique chuckled once she was done reading your response. She placed a comforting hand on your leg and offered a small smile. She then changed the subject to that of work. How the people were talking about what happened to you. That the story changed every time it was told. Each one more unrealistic than the next. She asked you to tell her what really happened if you could remember. Of course you remembered. You would never forget something like that.

You missed the company once, Angelique had left. She promised to come back soon and left the board and marker with you. She thought it sad that you could not communicate as usual. The whole I-feel-responsible-for-what-happened routine grew tiresome. After the third time she brought it up you ceased caring. It wasn’t like she was the reason they attacked you. She didn’t hold a gun to their heads and force them to do it. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Thinking about it made you wonder just how, Wade knew where you would be. He knew where you worked but that didn’t answer all of your questions. Just then the nurse walked in with a blended banana, strawberry and blueberry smoothie. Processed fruits and vegetables were the only things you could swallow without difficulty. She gave you another dose of morphine before bidding you goodnight. She had said she was on the daytime shift and promised she would brief the nightshift nurses. You waved her off and sipped on your fruit smoothie. You were left to your thoughts.

However, not for long because a certain mercenary sneaked into your private ward. It was as if he heard his name in your head and showed up on cue. He closed the door behind him and took the chair in hand. He dragged it behind him so the legs squeaked against the tiles. You flinched at the high pitched sound. He then turned the chair around and sat with his arms resting on its back. For a while he said nothing. Like he was doing some thinking of his own. His face was fixated on yours. The awkward silence, as well as his intense stare, brought heat to your cheeks. You picked up the board, Angelique left for you and scribbled something down.  
**Don’t think too hard. You’ll break your already damaged brain.**  
You held it up for him to read with a smug smirk. He tore his gaze from your face to the board. He took the board and the marker from you and wiped away what was written before scribing something of his own.  
**My brain isn’t the only thing that’s damaged but it still functions just fine. It’s not the only thing that functions perfectly fine, if you know what I mean.**  
He handed the board back to you with the white eyes of his mask in thin slits. You knew exactly what he meant and it made you roll your eyes at him. It wasn’t just the winking face at the end of his writing that gave it away. You wiped away the inappropriate inclination and scribbled something of your own.  
**So, a hospital does it for you, huh?**  
He chuckled low and shook his head. You saw his presence as an opportunity. He watched as he wrote down all the questions that had been circling in your head. You handed him back the board with the questions ranked from most to least important.

“What happened to me?” He read out loud, “The day my father, Odin banished me from Asgard, I was bitten by a vampire and had radioactive waste dumped into my eyes. To make matters worse, my mutant ability to control the weather activated just I was hit by a blast of gamma radiation. Ha ha, nah, I actually got this way by volunteering for something called the Weapon X program. They promised to cure my cancer and they cured it alright. They gave me an outrageous healing factor then labelled me psychotic and tossed me into a prison lab.”  
You thought his first story was farfetched but the real one was much worse. It made you understand him a little more after hearing it. A wave of guilt seeped over you for asking in the first place but he seemed indifferent about it. Like he’d been meaning to tell you in the first place.  
“How did I know where you were last night?” He read on with his head tilted to one side, “Well, I was following those two anyway. You see, those two goons work for the asshats who did this shit to me. I noticed they were stalking something like the perverted fucks they are so I investigated farther. When I saw it was you I couldn’t let them get away with that. Didn’t get the information I needed though, damn. Have I fed the dog while you were away? Yes. Yes I have… and it wasn’t pop tarts. Shit, I think I might have left the oven on though.”  
You could not tell if the last statement was a joke or not. You sure as hell hoped not. The jerking of his shoulders in silent laughter assured you that he was just kidding. You gave him an unamused look and relaxed into your pillow.

He wiped at the board and wrote something. He held the board up so that you could not see what it was. Your brow furrowed and you sat up from your position. He leaned away with the board tucked into his arm. He had it for quite a while before he handed it to you faced down. His head and shoulders swayed from side to side like he was amused with himself. You were unsure of whether you should read it or not. You decided to humour the comic sociopath and turned it right-side up. The doodles he drew made you laugh out loud. You flinched from the sharp, shooting pain in your throat. Your hand flew to your neck and your face contorted from the agonizing throb. He had drawn caricatures of himself and you. The first was him holding out flowers for you. The next was him holding a poor cartoon of, (dog’s name) instead of flowers. The third was of him staring down at a tent in his pants while your cartoon kissed him on the cheek. The last was of him with an even bigger tent as you hugged him. At the bottom of the board was the only thing he had written.  
**You didn’t say anything about the flowers. I didn’t know which ones you liked so I just thought ‘fuck it’ and bought all three.**  
You removed the hospital sheets and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You then hopped down onto your feet and stood in front of him. He looked up at you and you were sure he was frowning from how his mask shifted. You smirked as you stooped down and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek like the cartoon he drew. There was an exaggerated gasp and the white eyes of his mask widened as you stood straight. You snickered and rolled your eyes at the mouthy mercenary.

There was a light beeping sound coming from his wrist. He rolled up the sleeve of his suit to reveal an Adventure Time watch. He said that he had another date with a bunch of female thugs. He then asked if it was sexist to beat information out of them. If it was wrong for him to kill them because he was three times their size. You shrugged your shoulders and looked at the watch in response. It was an embarrassing feature to admit but you loved Adventure Time and really wanted his watch. You mimicked the look, (dog’s name) gave you when there was a possibility of treats. He saw the look on your face. He searched for the source of your big eyes until he saw the watch. His eyes went from your face, to the watch and back again. He removed the watch from his wrist and told you to hold out your own. You did so without hesitation as he attached the watch. You admired your new present with a pleased smile. You did not expect him to pull you into a kiss to the temple. He kissed it through his mask so it was barely felt but you knew it was there. You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. You had not expected it and wished you could read his expression under the mask for an answer. All he said before he vanished from sight was that it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. You thought that you could grow accustomed to his personality as you watched the hands on your new watch tick. He would be the, Jake to your, Finn.


	5. I don't understand.

Wade was worried about her. Every second moment, because every first moment was dedicated to his plan, he thought about her. It pissed him off that he hadn’t gotten there sooner. Had his craving for a burrito not clouded his judgement he could have prevented them from getting anywhere near her. He was the one who took her to the hospital doors and called for help. It was no secret he hated hospitals because of his experience from them. He took her to the best one he knew. Yet he spent the whole day and night pacing back and forth. He thought about what he would say to her once he saw her. He thought about how he would feel seeing her in such a state. He’d forgotten how much someone, whose cells didn’t regenerate, bled if nicked in the right place. He had only met her twice and she had such an effect on him. It frustrated him because before he didn’t have someone to worry about and continue in his valiant quest to recover his hotness. Then she just barged in like it was nobody’s business and hacked into his brain. She was all he could see when he was not focussed on something else. The biggest shit kicker of them all was that she didn’t even feel the same way about him. Although, he did get a glimpse of how she looked at him in the shower. How he purposefully moved so that she had no choice but to touch him as she got out. It gave him special little glittery tingles all over. He shook his head and gathered what weapons he may need.

He managed to sneak through the hospital without being seen. He thought about stealing some scrubs and pretending to be her doctor. He stole one of the coats that were just hanging there. He then strode into where they kept her and closed the door behind him. His eyes fell on her and all humour drained from his body. He was left guilty, furious and silent as he made his way toward her. She had a thick bandage wrapped around her neck. He knew what was hidden beneath it and his hands clenched into fists. He dragged a spare chair behind him to distract him from the murderous replay in his head. Her face scrunched up from the high pitched sound he created and it kind of made her look somewhat cute. He drew the chair next to her and sat down in silence. He felt as though he could have done better by her if he had just gotten there sooner. She didn’t say anything. It was a shame since he looked forward to hearing her voice no matter how coarse. He realized that she wasn’t able to speak because of how the fucker sliced her. She gained his attention by holding up a white board she’d written on. If he was not in the mood for humour then she certainly was. However, he was not going to let her challenge his intelligence and get away with it. He took the board from her and propositioned her. The expression on her face after she’d read it was enough. She reminded him a bit of, Vanessa and how they could both change his mood in a heartbeat. That was as far as their similarities went. The woman in front of him was very different to the one he’d left behind. She challenged him and forced him to chase after her. It was as exciting as it was entertaining. Another thing was that he could see the crazy in her bubbling beneath the surface. He just needed to tip the pot over and spill it all out.

She’d kissed him on the cheek before he left. He felt like a twelve year old boy with a stalker-like crush. He had a gang of women to interrogate next and he was conflicted about it. Sure, he was a mercenary and killing was what he did for a living. Shit, he even enjoyed it but he wasn’t an animal. He had values, they were fucked up but he had values nonetheless. He found the warehouse their base of operations and silently made his way through. He had taken them by surprise and they started shooting at him and charging at him with weapons. The first woman who charged him he cut down at the knees and stabbed her in the chest.  
“Oh, my God I’m so sorry but you came at me first.” He stammered.  
There were two others who followed after her. He let out a fake sob as the first katana sliced through the stomach of the one, almost cutting her in half and the other katana stuck through the forehead of the other woman. The last remaining women ran from him unarmed. He chased after them and threw the first he could get his hands on into a pile of boxes. She turned to face him and cowered away.  
“No, please!” She whimpered.  
“Oh, God.” He said in shock, his hands on his face and his eyes wide, “I’m so sorry.”  
Just then the other jumped him from behind with her arms wrapped around his throat. He threw her off with a heaving, ‘little spider monkey.’ He asked them where, Francis was. None of them would tell him what he wanted to know. He had felt bad enough that he had killed their friends. He just beat them into unconsciousness with an, ‘I’m so sorry’ after every hit. He left in frustration that it was yet another uneventful night of absolutely no useful information. Still, he could have sworn he’d seen one of them somewhere before. He was sure it was the pretty one with red hair.

When he got home, Blind Al was watching some kind of foreign soap opera. He thought it was amusing how she could not see and yet she watched TV. Her other senses were strengthened because she smelled the strong scent of his blood. He flopped down next to her on the couch and put his legs on her lap.  
“It still smells like old lady pants in here.” He quipped with a smirk.  
“Yes, I’m an old lady and I wear pants.” She retorted, “Don’t like it then let me go.”  
“If I did that then I wouldn’t have someone to talk to when I get home.” He protested, “And, (your name) has a pet. Why can’t I have one?”  
“How is that poor girl?” She asked, turning her attention from the TV screen to him.  
“She can’t speak. She has to write down what she wants to say on a board.” He murmured, “I can never have any new friends without them getting hurt. It’s not fair.”  
“Are you sure you just want her as a friend?” Al asked with a smirk, “She seems to have made quite the impact on you. You said she’s seen what you look like and she didn’t recoil from you, so she accepts you for who you are inside and out. Why not pursue this nice girl instead of trying to change yourself for someone else?”  
He had to think about what she said for a moment. It was true, she didn’t recoil or judge him by his looks. She did have a major effect on him in ways not even he could explain. However, Vanessa was the light to his darkness and he was determined to get back to the way things were with her.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
You were kept in the hospital for at least a week and a half or so. They said it would take six weeks for your throat to heal enough for you to function back to normal. You were advised to use the muscles as little as possible in order for it to heal properly. They said that although it was healed on the surface, the inside still had a long way to go. The editor gave you a few more days off work just for good will. You appreciated the time off to yourself. There was a specific someone who would sneak up and enter your mind. You wondered if he managed to get the information he needed to find the one who turned his face into a ‘testicle with teeth.’ (Dog’s name) was absolutely ecstatic as soon as you stepped through the door. He was so excited that he peed a small puddle at your feet. You couldn’t get mad at the happy mutt because of how much you knew he missed you. To him he hadn’t seen you in months and you were treated like it. As though he knew there was something wrong he refused to leave your side. He even slipped passed the door when you had to use the toilet. He was your shadow regardless of what you did and where you went. Speaking of shadows, you woke one morning and found a note left for you on the fridge.  
_Looks like someone’s happy to see you… and I don’t mean the dog._  
 _We ran out of food so I got him some kibble. You’re welcome._  
 _Glad you’re out of the hospital. That place was a nightmare._  
 _P.S: I totally didn’t watch you sleep last night._  
 _Your favourite mercenary._

You hadn’t seen him for days. It made you wonder why you cared so much. Why you hoped that every time, (dog’s name) barked that it would be the merc in red spandex. You figured he was busy with his own mission. It was one night you woke to the sound of the friendly Spaniel growling low. It was a warning kind of growl. The kind of sound an animal makes before it attacks. It was the first you had ever heard from him and it made you nervous. You got out of bed with caution and reached for the baseball bat from under your bed. You skulked to the door he was snarling at and opened it as slow as possible. You then tiptoed your way to the living room. You looked around in the darkness and could find nothing. You sighed in frustration at the animal and lowered your bat. You turned on your heel to return to your bedroom.  
“Hello again, gorgeous.” A deep, menacing voice sounded from the shadows, “Oh my, you are a looker. It’s no wonder, Wade has such an interest in you.”  
The attractive British monster stepped from his hiding place with a tall woman in tow. Your fist tightened around the handle of the bat and you took a step back as he approached. He held out his hand and grasped at the bat with a chilling grin. His fingertips then brushed against the bandage around your neck.  
“Huh, I’d heard from a friend of yours that he rescued you from some of my men.” He murmured as he ripped the bat from your hand without warning, “They weren’t the most intelligent men but they worked hard for their pay. I wonder if he would notice if I just whisked you away or if he wouldn’t give a shit what happens to you.”  
“What do you want?” You asked with a scowl.  
“Ooh, she’s a feisty one.” He crooned, grabbing a strong and painful hold of your bandaged throat, “We’ll work that out of you soon enough darling. Because, you see we have big plans for someone like you. Let’s just hope he comes for you soon. Or, maybe he’d come just for, Vanessa. Either way, I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”  
He injected something into your arm and your sight began to blur. You felt yourself being lifted off your feet and carried into a brightly lit hallway. Your body weakened the more whatever he injected into your bloodstream worked its way throughout. You could not move. You could make no sound. Your eyes fluttered shut.


	6. The dark side of the moon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go through everything, Wade went through before he became, Deadpool.   
> After all, superhuman powers are not acquired painlessly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance, it gets worse before it gets better.

You woke to the smell of rotting or burning flesh. You were strapped down good and proper to a gurney in a small room separated by nothing but worn hospital curtains. You struggled against the leather straps but they would not cave. Your arms grew tired as you tried aimlessly to free yourself. You tried to pull at the ankle straps but all that did was create a terrible muscle spasm in your calves. You looked around your surroundings for a second time in hope that you would recognise at least something. Your face contorted in pain at the amount of strain your neck was taking. You were forced to rest your tired and aching muscles after what seemed like a long while. In your stillness you could hear the agonized moans of people around you. What frustrated you most, due to the operation after the attack a couple weeks ago, was that you couldn’t even ask one of them where you were. Someone must have heard your irritated grunt because a soft voice sounded from behind you.   
“Hey, what made you hit rock bottom for you to have contacted these people?” It asked, the coarse sound barely above a whisper.  
You wished you could speak to them. Your situation felt like one of those nightmares people had where they would scream but no sound came out. How they wanted to escape the imminent danger but their feet refused to move. The difference was that your problem wasn’t a nightmare it was real. You knew you wouldn’t wake up to find that it was all just a twisted dream.   
“Alright then,” they murmured in disappointment, “I just thought I would make conversation. A person needs a friend to take their mind off of all this madness.” 

After what seemed like hours, Francis walked into your little curtained room with a malicious grin on his face. That same grin that sent uncomfortable shivers up and down your spine. You looked into his eyes and shrank away from the maniac. There was a heat in his eyes that frightened you. One that screamed lunacy and… something else you hoped was just in your head. Your heart galloped in your chest and you tried hard to steady your quickened breathing. The realisation that you were at his mercy swirled around in your head. He could do anything he wanted to you and there was little you could do to stop him. He looked over his shoulder as the strong woman who was with him the night they captured you stepped behind him. His grin faltered into a smug smirk. You breathed an inaudible sigh of relief for her presence even if it meant something darker. The thought of his hands on you made your skin crawl.   
“Hello again, gorgeous.” He crooned, “You’re probably wondering where you are. Well, you’re in a… growing facility where we turn ordinary people into super human war machines who are then sold off to the highest bidder. I can’t wait to see what we produce with you. Kind of like a kid waiting to see the prize in their favourite cereal.”   
He injected a thick needle into your vein with a satisfied look on his face. You flinched from the pinching pain that shot up your arm. He then flicked a switch and a luminous blue liquid seeped down from the tube and into your vein. It felt as though someone had lit a match and set the vein alight. That feeling soon took over the rest of your body and it brought hot tears to your eyes.   
“Aww, don’t cry precious.” He cooed, “This is just a serum that activates any mutant genes lurking in your DNA. For it to work we need to subject you to extreme stress. I’m sure you’ve heard about the whole ‘make an omelette, break some eggs’ saying right? I’m going to hurt you, sweetheart. The treatment affects everyone differently.”  
He then injected a spotted red and yellow liquid into the tube which then made the mixture an off green colour. That seemed to soothe the burn the serum created. If he knew the profanities you threw at him in your mind he would have crawled into a ball and cried. Yet all you could throw at him was the look of intense loathing in your eyes. He was an even worse nutcase than, Wade. Thinking of him made you wonder if he knew you were missing. If he would know where you were and come looking for you. You wondered whether he even bothered to notice. Francis left you with the woman who smirked at you and grabbed your throat. She more she squeezed the wider her smile became. Your hands clenched into tight fists at the agony she caused you. You squirmed under her and gasped for painful breaths until darkness took over. 

The next time you woke your hands were tied above your head with, Francis beside you. His brow furrowed as if he was concentrating really hard. He injected a pale yellow liquid into your neck which you noticed was no longer bandaged. He was joined by two other menacing-looking men dressed in black. His lips curled into a bright smile when he stepped in front of you. He was in a bloodied lab coat.   
“You see, gorgeous this is how it’s going to work. Adrenaline acts as a catalyst for the serum so we’re going to have to make you suffer.” He explained, his smile growing ever wider, “If you’re lucky, the mutant genes will activate and manifest in a spectacular fashion. If not, well, we’ll have to keep on hurting you in new and different ways. Each more painful than the last. Until you finally mutate. Or die. For my sake I sure hope it’s the latter. It would be such a shame to waste someone like you. Now, be a good girl and hurry your mutation for, Ajax.”  
He then stepped aside and the two men stood in his place. Each one of them took a turn to throw a punch at you. You heaved and hissed as each blow hit your stomach, face and chest. Every one harder than the last. You grunted in anguish as you felt a collar bone crack. You were sure one of them snapped some cartilage from your ribs as well. What was worse was that every sound you made created more pain than what was intended. You tasted the copper tang of fresh blood as it filled your nose and mouth. The more you wanted them to stop the more they continued. You prayed to the high heavens that it would be over soon and the pain would end. You weren’t that lucky. At least a blow to the bottom of your chin sent you into a spiraling unconsciousness.

The next few days felt like you had walked through the gates of hell. They stripped you without your consent and tossed you into a cage just big enough to hold you. You were hunched over like an abused animal. It wasn’t only uncomfortable but there were men who watched you and hollered as they passed by. It made matters worse when you snarled at them in warning. One of the men who had beat the crap out of you the day before walked over with a pressure hose. You watched a movie where they had used them as a means to cure a patient in a mental institution. It was one of the barbaric methods of ‘curing’ their patients many decades ago. Then they turned on the pressure hose and blasted you with gallons of rushing water. Every drop stung at your skin as it made contact. It was much worse when the water touched where they had either broken or bruised a bone. Your knuckles were white as sheets as you clung to the bars. You ground your teeth at the excruciating pain. It felt as though you were being slowly crushed by wave after giant wave. You choked on the water. It filled your lungs and made you cough constantly. Still they smothered you in the never ending flow of water. You were sure they were trying to drown you. You held up your hands to keep it from hitting your sensitive face. There were polished shoes that stood in front of you. Francis stood before you with a frown on his face. He shook his head, signalling for the torturer to stop. He opened the cage you were in and took a hold of your arm. He practically dragged you off to the next form of torture. You couldn’t help but wonder what else he had in store for you.

If you weren’t sure they were trying to drown you before you were sure of it then. Francis had, ‘Angel’ stuff you in a tub of what they said was amniotic fluid. The warm, slimy liquid was like a comfort to what you had been through before. He nodded to her and she grabbed a lock of your hair at the back of your head before submerging you into the fluid against your will. She held you down for a long time. So long that it felt like your lungs would burst. You clawed at her wrists but still she held you down. Your head throbbed and your lungs tightened to the point where it felt they were on fire. When you could no longer struggle against her she pulled you up for air. The fluid seeped into your eyes so you could not see. It flowed into your nose so you could not breathe properly. It flowed into your ears so you could not hear all that well either. Yet you recognised the faint sound of, Francis’ voice. You could have sworn you heard the word ‘again.’ She forced you back into the depths of the tub. When nothing happened, Francis picked you up from the thick amniotic fluid and carried you to your next form of torture. For a brief moment you felt safe in his arms. You swore he held you close to his chest as he walked through the rundown facility. Your head rested on his shoulder. There was a light purr exiting his throat. You thought that if you played your cards right you would get yourself out of the situation. You nuzzled your face into his neck. You were so sure it had an effect on him, until he dropped you into a bath of ice. You gasped as the freezing blocks covered your body. Francis bit his lip as his eyes shifted to your chest. You knew what he stared at and snarled back at him. He snickered and shut the lid with an echoed thud. Once again you were left shivering in darkness. Freezing, biting, paralysing, silent darkness.

When the lid finally opened you were unable to move. The extreme cold had eaten at your skin and left searing, open sores on your body. Your skin was blue from the drastic drop in temperature. Your heartbeat slowed right down to compensate for the low atmosphere. Francis was the one to lift you out of the ice bath. You wished you could attack him and throw him into the bath of ice. That you could drown him in a tub of amniotic fluid. Or that you could strip him down to absolutely nothing, put him in a cage just big enough for him to fit in and focus the pressure hose on his groin. The thoughts of putting him through torture brought a smile to your defrosting features.   
“Oh, and what has you so jolly, beautiful?” He chided, “Is there something you’re keeping from me? Has our methods activated your mutation yet? You see, love, if this relationship is going to be a healthy one I need you to answer me. I’m not talking to myself here. You don’t have to speak. Just nod your head, yes or shake your head, no.”   
It took all of the energy you had left to shrug your shoulders. You wanted to spit in his face and snarl at him but you knew better than that. Francis sighed in what might have been irritation or disappointment. You could not tell. He then took you to another cage. It was much bigger than the one you remembered. He put you down onto your feet, which then felt like standing on thousands of glass shards, and placed a black bag over your head. Your hands were strapped above your head. You heard his heavy footsteps walk away from you. The next thing you felt was a strong electric current surging through your veins. It made your muscles spasm without your control. It was those nasty cramps one got when the muscles were strained increased tenfold. You tried to scream as the currents surged through you but there was but muffled sound that came out. Your heart hurt with every beat. Your head throbbed in time with your heart. It created a searing pain throughout your body. You began to froth at the mouth because of it. 

When you woke you were in the back of a van. You were strapped down next to someone else. You turned your head and studied the frightened woman. She had dirty, brown hair with a single blonde panel. She had chocolate brown hair and a beautiful, oval-shaped face. She noticed you were awake and scooted over to you.   
“Do you know where they’re taking us?” She stammered.   
You shook your head in response. You hadn’t eaten in days and you were sure you were dehydrated. They tried to break your spirit and yet you still wanted to kill everything in that traumatizing place. Her eyes were saddened by your appearance. You could just imagine the terrible shape you were in. You hadn’t seen yourself yet.   
“What did they do to you, honey?” She asked, her voice soft and her fingertips snaked through your tangled hair, “Who could be so cruel?”  
Just then the double doors opened and, Francis’ counterpart stepped into the van. She took hold of the other woman and the devil himself stepped in after her. He rolled you out of the van without caution. He had the woman strapped to a pole. You were taken to a ship that’s building had been abandoned a long time ago. Francis unstrapped you from the gurney and helped you to your feet. He kept a strong, crushing grip around your waist. The reason he tagged you along was because it was a trap he set for, Wade Wilson. It involved a choice between you and, Vanessa. A wave of doubt seeped over you as he finished explaining his plan. Never has a man ever chosen a friend over the woman he loved.


	7. Where's Wally?

Deadpool’s POV

He had been to her house a few times and found it vacant save for the starving dog. He spent days looking for her. He even went so far as to corner some of her colleagues when they went off on their own. None of them had seen her in a while. He ended up taking the dog back to his place where it would be taken care of. Al was grateful for the company but scolded him for taking someone else’s pet. The three of them were on his couch and watching some reality show about a celebrity he cared nothing about. He was in a horrid mood because he had no idea where she was. No one just up and left without any form of communication. He found her phone on the end table beside her bed and her laptop on the coffee table. She should have taken something with her. He knew how much she cared about the mutt so she wouldn’t have left him on his own for so long. He was in a bad mood because he thought she had abandoned him. As far as he could remember he didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he saved her once and thought she’d taken a liking to him after he visited her in hospital. He rested his head on the blind old woman’s shoulder and sighed in defeat and frustration.  
“When are you gonna find this girl and tell her how you feel?” Al asked in a huff, “So you can stop being so pissy.”  
“She wouldn’t have me.” He murmured in protest, “If you could see me then you would understand.”  
“Well, honey looks aren’t everything.” She crooned.  
“That’s where you’re wrong. Have you ever heard, David Beckham speak? It’s like mouth sexed a can of helium.” He insisted, “You think, Ryan Reynolds got this far with his superior acting method?”  
“Love is blind, Wade.”  
“No, you’re blind.”  
“So, you’re just gonna lie there and whimper?” She asked with a sigh, “At least give the girl her dog back. Lord knows I love this mongrel but he isn’t ours to keep.”  
“Wait, I don’t have _feelings_ for that girl. (Your name) is like a good friend. She’s fun entertainment at most but I don’t have feelings for her.” He assured her, not all that sure about it himself, “Vanessa is the woman I want. She’s what all my efforts were for. (Your name) was just a healthy distraction from the destruction.”

He washed his hands after a blissful, yet somehow still incredibly lonesome, masturbation. He tripped over the dog that lay in the middle of the doorway. He hissed at the vapid mutt and clapped his hands to chase it off. It didn’t understand the meaning of I-don’t-want-you-near-me-all-the-time because the dog trailed behind him with his tail in the air. He didn’t even know the name of the damn animal. Still he felt terrible that it was left alone in, (your name)’s apartment. Blind Al had gone to sleep earlier than usual so he had some time to himself. His own apartment was dark and silent. It allowed him to think without being disturbed by what was meant to be a wise old lady. She was as wise as the energetic animal curled at his feet. It was cute curled up in a ball. It made him think of the stuffed toys the other kids used to play with. He tilted his head to one side, stroking his fingers through the Spaniel’s long fur. The creature at his feet didn’t give a shit how he looked. It liked him regardless of the fact that he provided it with food. Holy fuck sticks, that dog loved his food. Yet that wasn’t the point. The sound of the phone ringing made him jump. He went to answer the phone before it woke up ancient sleeping beauty. A small part of him hoped that it was a familiar female voice. He didn’t care which one of them it was. He hadn’t expected, Weasel on the other end. His shoulders dropped along with his hopeful mood.  
“Yeah, what’s up?” He grunted into the mouthpiece.  
“Wade, we have a fucking problem.” Weasel stammered, “By ‘we’ I mean you.”

What his best friend told him scared him. It chilled him to the bone. If, Francis found, Vanessa there was not telling what he would do. He grabbed his hoody and told, Weasel to meet him at his place. The two off them walked to the strip club he knew, Vanessa worked at. He was both angry and afraid. Afraid of what she would say when she saw him and pissed that the British asshat wanted to involve her in their feud. His nerves were shot as soon as his ears heard the pounding of loud music. He took a quick deep breath and walked in with his head down so no one would see his face. Weasel stood in place as he watched the half-naked women dancing on the catwalk. Somewhere in the background there was the sound of an enthusiastic old man on the microphone who introduced the next dancer. His attention was not focused on the other dancers. He looked around for the beautiful face he knew so well. When he could not find her his head began to spin. The music and all other sounds started to fade away. Even his racing heart slowed from the dread that washed over him. And then he saw her. She was dressed to suit her job. When she smiled it took his breath away. He could not take his eyes off of her. It took every fibre of his being not to approach her and take her in his arms. However, there was a nagging thought that occurred to him. One where he knew she would hate the sight of him. It made his heart sink. On the other hand, (your name) saw him in all his glory and did nothing. Like she was indifferent to his appearance. He walked passed, Vanessa and into the shady bathroom in a panic. He splashed some cold water onto his face to snap himself out of his stupor. He then scolded himself in the mirror. He convinced himself to get his shit together and stop being such a weak motherfucker. However, when he left the bathroom she was nowhere to be seen. He located, Weasel and asked the horny shit where she went. He then made his way to the back of the club and into the alley where she was said to be. She was not there but her bag was on the floor. Shit.

“Motherfucker!” He cried in rage as he slammed her bag onto his coffee table.  
Weasel trailed in behind him and tried to calm him down. There was nothing that could console him at that point. His worst fear had come to light and he was furious. Not just at the douche who took her but at himself as well. If he had the courage to talk her earlier then none of this would have happened. He paced back and forth in his apartment. He took his frustrations out onto a mannequin. He beat the shit out of it. He let out a few more grunts and growls in anger.  
“Oh my God, I’m going to rip his…” His seething rant was interrupted by a ringing phone.  
He ordered, Weasel to find the phone before he got even angrier. The little man searched for it like his life depended on it. He was too pissed to notice his friend’s fear. His main focus was all the different ways he would murder, Francis. Every one of them was more painful than the last. Weasel found the phone. It was his and it was a text from, Vanessa. The cock sucker had sent him a message through her phone.  
_If you want them come and get them_. It read with what his friend explained was an animated pile of shit.  
He ordered, Weasel to get him his guns. He kicked the coffee table in front of him but still his rage would not subside. Both, Blind Al and, Weasel looked in every corner of his apartment for every one of his firearms. He looked at the message a second time. He noticed it said ‘them’ and not ‘her.’ It was a bit odd that he would refer to, Vanessa as a plural. Then it hit him like a punch to the groin. He had, (your name) as well. The thing that made him swallow hard was that, Francis only had, Vanessa for a few hours. (Your name) had been missing for days. He fell onto the couch and buried his head in his hands. Who knew what twisted things, Francis did to her. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.


	8. If we go down then we go down together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it gets a little sad towards the end. Don't you worry, it has a very Marvel ending at the... well, you get it.

Deadpool’s POV  
He dreaded the idea but he knew he needed their help. He predicted all the nasty remarks that would come from the nonchalant teenage girl. He took a cab to Professor Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters where he knew his unwanted and somewhat annoying acquaintances roamed around in its halls. He hopped up the porch stairs two at a time. The place was regal in all its magnificence. It always surprised him how the hugeness of the building fascinated him. He figured it was built that way to hold all the goody-two-shoes mutants. The one’s that were ‘confused’ about their abilities. He thought it was a boring prison built for those who had nothing better to do with their lives. To him it was a waste to train one’s power only to become a geometry or chemistry teacher for some snot nosed brats. Then again, it was also the headquarters for the infamous X-men. He made his way to the door and lifted his hand to knock on the door. It was opened before his knuckles made contact with the polished oak. In the door stood, Negasonic Teenage Warhead. She reminded him of a Goth girl in his English class. She dressed in all black as well. He grinned in his mask as he thought of a mean comment.  
“Ripley, from Alien three!” He quipped with an over enthusiastic tone.  
“Fuck, you’re old.” She retorted without missing a beat.  
“Ha!” He laughed in her face, “Fake laugh. Hiding real pain. Go get silver balls.”  
“You two going for a bite?” She asked with a smug smirk, “Early bird special?”  
“Oh, like there’s something wrong with eating before sundown or saving money.” He answered with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “No, you know that bad guy that _you_ let go… he’s got my girls and you’re gonna help me get ‘em back.”  
“Wade? Is that you?” Colossus called from within the house.  
“Yeah, it’s me, Deadpool!” He answered back just as loud, “And I’ve got an offer you can’t refuse.”

The drive to where, Francis kept the girls was quite comical. He called a specific cab driver because he knew the trusty immigrant was, well, trusty. He also knew that no one else would have been brave enough to drive a masked sociopath, a moody teenager and a giant man made of metal to their destination. He didn’t want to take them along but he knew he needed their help. Just because he was crazy didn’t mean he was stupid. Since, Colossus was such a giant he had to hunch over in the back seat beside, Negasonic. He was surprised the mutant didn’t crush the poor girl. He loaded his guns on the way there and made conversation with, Dopinder.  
“And that by my opinion is why the movie, Cocoon is pure pornography.” He insisted.  
The nervous cab driver nodded at his rant in response and looked over his shoulder to the hunched over metal mutant in his back seat. Wade felt that in that moment he may as well have been talking to himself. Dopinder’s attention returned to him.  
“Who brought this twinkly man?” He asked with a stutter.  
“Twinkly but deadly. My chrome-penised friend back there has agreed to do me this solid. In exchange, I said that I would consider joining his boy band.” He explained in mirth.  
“It’s not boy band.” Colossus interrupted with an annoyed growl.  
“Sure it’s not.” He said, brushing the big guy’s opinion off, “So, any luck winning, Gita back?”  
“I tried to hold on tight, Mr. Pool but Bandhu is craftier and handsomer than me.” The cab driver hissed in dismay and shook his head.  
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of banging coming from behind. Everyone in the car fell silent and the sound of desperate pleas could be heard coming from the trunk. Dopinder admitted to doing as, Deadpool said and planned to gut him like a tandoori fish then leave his carcass on, Gita’s doorstep. Wade tried to convince the two heroes behind them that he did no such thing, whispering praise whilst defending himself. Neither one of them looked convinced. He was grateful that they reached their destination. He thanked, Dopinder for the ride and got out of the car.

He expected nothing less from, Francis when his eyes roamed the area. There were men dressed in mock SWAT outfits that were littered all over the place. It agitated him all the more. He planned in his head how he was going to remove the head from the cock sucker’s body. His heart began to race as he and the other two mutants neared them. His thoughts were interrupted by, Negasonic Teenage Warhead. She looked over to him and her brow furrowed.  
“Hey, where’s your duffle bag?” She asked.  
Wade looked behind him and kicked himself for losing focus. He tried to phone, Dopinder to ask if he could turn around and bring back the duffle bag with his guns and ammunition. He began to panic when his friend didn’t answer the phone. He had forgotten his duffle bag in the car tucked neatly at his feet.  
“God damn it!” He cried in frustration, “I’m gonna do this the old fashioned way. With two swords and maximum effort.”  
They continued on their way and the armed men stood in their way, guns pointed in their direction. The asshole stood on the edge of an unfinished ship with a huge grin on his face. Wade couldn’t wait to wipe that smug grin off of his face. Francis stepped up onto something and spread his arms out.  
“Wade Wilson!” He called down from above, “What’s my name?”  
“Oh, I’mma fuckin’ spell it out for ya.” He murmured under his breath.  
He watched as, Francis uttered something to the freakishly strong woman who followed him like a sheep. She then leapt down from the top of the ship. The woman was so strong that she left a crater in the one spot she landed in. The fight was on.  
Colossus stepped forward and took her on. The two of them engaged in a loud fight. He looked over at the teenage girl who was on her phone. He shook his head and his remarks seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Once she was done there she threw the phone over her shoulder and bolted towards the woman who managed to knock, Colossus down. A flaming aura formed around her whilst she ran and as the two collided it was as if, Negasonic’s opponent had been blasted with a powerful explosive. After that there was gunfire from every direction. Colossus had taken over from where, Negasonic had left off. The metal giant had managed to knock down two of the officers with a truck tire before he was charged at. Wade and the teenage girl hid for cover behind a pile of metal. He yelled at, Negasonic to look away as he pulled out his white underwear. He then placed it onto a metal pipe and waved it in the air at an attempt of feigned surrender.  
“Fellas! Hey, hey!” He called for their attention and got to his feet, “You only work for that shit-spackled muppet fart. So, Imma give you a chance for y’all to lay down your firearms. In exchange for preferential, bordering on gentle and possibly even lover-like treatment.” They interrupted his proposition with more gunfire, “Fine. Commando!”

He leapt from his hiding spot and unsheathed his katana blades. He slashed at the first soldier’s stomach, and then the next in the same place. He tossed a blade into the forehead of another before jumping onto one of the crates, using an old car as leverage. He kicked the one soldier off of the crate and sliced the head off of the other, using is as a ball to hit two other soldiers. He hacked and slashed at a group of soldiers that had caught him between two crates. None of them were able to stop him. He sprinted his way to the unfinished ship, killing the whole way there. That was until he recognized one of the soldiers from his better days. He made temporary small talk before knocking him to the ground. He could not bring himself to kill an old friend even if he did work for the wrong side. He used the bodies of the men he had killed to spell out the fucker’s name. He was pleased with his work until the prick dragged the girls in both hands. Vanessa looked none too shabby but, (your name.) Oh, dear god she looked like death was thrown into a microwave, exploded, poorly put back together and then microwaved again. She looked like a male cat that had been gone for months and returned looking like a torn up bag of bones. Francis had a big old satisfied grin on his face. Wade was beyond rage at that point. Vanessa fought him but, (your name) looked too weak to even breathe.  
“It’s time for you to make a choice, Wade.” Francis yelled, “Which one lives and which one doesn’t? There can only be one.”  
Then there was more gunfire and the dick disappeared with the two girls. He heard the sound of, Negasonic calling for his attention. She told him to climb onto the sheet of metal. He understood what she implied and jumped up onto the sheet. She used her powers to lift him onto the boat. The metal sheet knocked down the soldiers on the boat and he was left clinging onto the rail.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Francis had placed you into what looked like a cryogenetic tank. However, it did not freeze you or feel cold in any way. You watched as, Wade confronted, Francis. He seemed to have forgotten your existence. You felt that way by how he looked at the other woman. You could hear his voice. It seemed to be the one salvation after all the torment you’d been through. Yet he still did not seem to notice that you were there was well. Francis was beside her tank with a smug smirk on his face.  
“Don’t worry, baby.” Murmured to her, “I’mma get you out of there.”  
“What better way to crawl back inside that head of yours?” Francis chided.  
He then flicked on the tanks and all the oxygen within the tank vanished. It felt as though someone had reached into your chest and squeezed your lungs. They would deflate but never inflate again. Your breaths were in short gasps and your head began to spin. You were running out of oxygen. You were sure that was the day you’d die. You watched in a panic as both, Francis and, Wade clashed blades. The one had silver battle axes and the other katana blades. It would have been a beautiful sight if you had not been in a tank without oxygen. The high levels of carbon dioxide made your head swirl and spin. You fought the need to pass out. You hoped one of them would take pity on you but none of them even noticed. Wade reminded you of the ancient ninjas in the way that he slashed at, Francis. His flips and kicks were flawless. He threw one of his katana blades into the glass shield of, Vanessa’s tank. You watched as she cut the bindings on the blade and got herself out.

Her attention turned to you and she rushed to your aid. Her brow furrowed as she studied the control panel. She didn’t seem to understand anything. She grunted in panicked frustration and went to try dislodge the katana from her own tank. You were tired of everything you’d been through lately. You were sure the universe hated you. You must have done something wrong to somebody in a past life. You were done with the pain. You were done with the torture. You were done with the idea of a guardian angel wrapped in red spandex. You swallowed thickly and looked her in the eye. Something in the way you looked at her made her struggle harder.  
“Hey.” You managed to get out after so long, “It’s ok. I haven’t got long anyway. He really loves you. Besides, no one ever saves the sacrificing friend. Help him and don’t mind me. I’m tired. I deserve a break from all of this insane bullshit.”  
She stepped away from the tank and nodded her understanding. With tears in her eyes she walked away from you. Wade, and, Francis continued their epic battle. You watched as they fought with all the strength that they had.

You thought it was a badass show before it was lights out for good. Your heart began to take the strain and your sight grew grey over a few minutes. In the end it was, Vanessa who ran him through with one of Wade’s katana blades. All three of them were on the ground. You hoped to the high heavens that your sacrifice was not in vain. It made you think about him. About how you seemed to have been drawn to him on that bridge. There was a reason you could not move from where you were. You weren’t sure of what that was until he got into the shower with you. Yes, he was horrific to look at but that didn’t seem to matter. That reason was confirmed when he rescued you from the attackers. He didn’t have to visit you in the hospital but he did. It was a shame you never got the chance to tell him. It was a sick joke the universe played. Then there was an explosion. The ground beneath you shook and trembled. Your tank slid from the ship. It seemed that when the ship tilted your tank escalated and the last thing you saw was a cloud of orange and grey smoke. You felt the inside of the tank heat up rapidly. It became super-hot and bright to super cold and dark.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Wade’s POV  
Everything had gone as planned. Colossus found, Vanessa among the rubble. He threw his hands up in victory and praised them for how awesome they were. Then, Francis took him down without warning. He tumbled down the ruins with his enemy in two. He grunted at every stone and metal object his body hit. As if he hadn’t been through enough as it was. He tackled the bloodied thorn in his side. He fought hard to keep the fucking parasite down. He broke both of the man’s arms so that he could no longer fight back. He threw in a few punches for good measure. He did not stop until, Francis lay still beneath him. He was tired and out of breath. Francis seemed to be quite amused with his situation.  
“Me and you are headed to fix this butter face.” Wade ordered between gasps.  
“What?” Francis asked with a frown, “You stupid fucking idiot. Did you really think there was a cure? For that!”  
“What?” Wade murmured, his head tilted to one side.  
“You heard me.” The douche retorted.  
“No. No!” He hissed through clenched teeth, “So, you mean to say that, after all this, you can’t fix me?”  
“It sounds even stupider when you say it.” Francis quipped.  
“Like the kind of stupid who admits he can’t do the one thing I’m keeping him alive for.” Wade said with as much effort as he could, “Any last words?”  
“What’s my name?”  
“Who fucking cares?”

“Wade!” Colossus called from behind him, “I’m sorry, Wade. This one is... gone.”  
The man made of metal seemed to be carrying a charred body. It was the charred body of a woman. It could not have been, Vanessa or, Negasonic because they were right behind him. Then it hit him. He dropped the gun in his hand beside, Francis’ head. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about her. He couldn’t get to his feet. He seemed frozen in place as the metal giant approached with the dead girl in his arms. It was the first time he had seen genuine anguish on, Negasonic’s face. Vanessa’s eyes were bloodshot as if she’d been crying. What he saw hadn’t sunken in until, Colossus was right there. His gaze shifted to the one under him.  
“No.” Wade said, barely above a whisper, “No, no, no, no. Please tell me that isn’t, (your name.) Tell me it isn’t! Tell me! Tell…” His voice faltered into coarse chokes.  
“Afraid so, mate.” Francis confessed without a flinch, “Such a shame as well. Well, you made your choice and that poor thing paid the ultimate prince for it. I’ll miss that girl, she was hardier than you.”  
“What did you do to her you sick fuck?” He mumbled with his jaw clenched.  
“Oh, nothing I didn’t do to you. The funny thing is, no matter how much I blamed her pain on you she never spoke a bad word about you… If she could speak.”  
He could hear her muffled laughter ringing in his ears. The night at the hospital should have opened his eyes to the truth. She was never afraid of him, not ever. He appreciated that more than she knew. She didn’t stare in shock or disgust when she saw what he looked like beneath the mask. Vanessa would adjust to him eventually but, for some reason, it didn’t feel the same.

He managed to pick himself up. Stomping on both the monster’s knees hard enough to break the bones. The crunch of snapping bone that followed had never sounded more satisfying. His feet felt like lead as he stepped closer to the charred remains. A trembling hand reached out to touch the burnt face. It was a sick poetic justice that the fire hadn’t changed that much of her appearance. Like he was being mocked or punished for forgetting she existed for a few moments. He stopped just inches away and decided he owed her as much. He removed his mask. Both of them. He heard the sharp intake of breath from, Vanessa as she laid eyes on him. It took so much for him to smile at her before shrugging his shoulders. He couldn’t find the words to say. His attention returned to, (your name) and stroked his fingers along the line of her face. What should have happened was that a few black flakes fell from the body. Instead the entire thing crumbled into a pile of ash. It made both, Wade and, Colossus jump back in surprise. Everyone stared at the pile of ash that began to move on its own. Even, Francis was left speechless. An arm burst from the ashes and the hand clawed at the ground. The second arm followed. Then, a female body pulled itself up like it was climbing out of a pool of thick liquid. Finally, one of her legs wrapped over her shoulder and she lifted herself up from the ashes. She stood up straight, her naked body covered in ash, and her eyes opened. His jaw dropped. He recognised those soul-piercing (your eye colour) hues anywhere. Yet, she was different. (Your name)’s hair was much longer and matched the colour of the ash.

“Fucking hell, this whole time it was fire.” Francis grumbled under his breath, “Should have thought of that one.”  
The sound of his voice snatched her attention. She walked over to him in slow steps until she stood over his broken body. The look on her face would have curdled even the devil’s blood. Then, her lips curled into a smirk which grew in a manic grin.  
“What’s my name?” She crooned.  
Before he could answer she held her hand out and made a gun gesture with her fingers. She made as if she pulled a trigger and the back of Francis’ head exploded like she had an actual gun. They were all left dumbfounded. Francis had turned her into a Phoenix-like mutant with psychic power that allowed her to do whatever she thought of. Like her thoughts were manifested into open reality. He knew she was psychic because she looked at him like he had spoken out loud. She waltzed over to him until her face was mere inches away from his. It made his heart gallop. She smiled and placed a gentle hand to steady his racing heart.  
“He was right. Super human powers aren’t attainted painlessly, or without loss.” She purred with the most heart-melting smile, “But I guess I’m like you now.”  
“No, you’re better than me.” He murmured barely above a whisper.  
He wrapped his arms around her back and edged her closer. The ash that covered her exposed body seeped onto his gloved hands yet he could still feel her soft skin. He tilted his head towards, Vanessa as if he was asking her permission. The other woman snickered and nodded her head in the corner of his eye. He then pressed his lips gingerly against hers. She tasted like sweet ash but he loved it.  
_Ooh, I can’t wait to take you home_. He thought, knowing full well that she could hear it and knew what he meant.


End file.
